


A Random Assortment of One-Shots (requests open)

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: One-Shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9102838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A random assortment of one-shots. The first one was my own doing, but the rest are requests from readers unless otherwise noted.Requests:To request, you must give me a prompt and a pairing from one of my fandoms, listed in my profile. I am more likely to do one-shots in fandoms that I am currently active in, and there is a chance that I will turn your request down, or it will take a while to get up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh I feel like Shalto is hardcore OOC and I kinda rushed this so here you are  
> (This is also unedited so if you see any mistakes - I mean ANY - please tell me)  
> *tries to write in British character* *fails massively*
> 
> I got the prompt from @otp-imagines-cult on tumblr, with a slight variation on the original.
> 
> "Imagine your OTP kissing under some mistletoe when they think nobody’s looking. But people saw. And people took pictures."

Mistletoe.

Of course, it had to be bloody mistletoe.

John had decided to hold a small Christmas party, as a celebratory way to end off a rather hectic year. He had invited a few of his friends: Mrs. Hudson would be there, Molly, Greg, Mycroft, and even Shalto.

John knew that Sherlock wasn’t shy about their relationship in public. Whenever anyone else sent so much as a lingering glance John’s way, Sherlock would make it obvious that he was taken. John was usually okay with these public displays of possession; deep down, he secretly enjoyed it. But this. This was too much.

 

~~~

“You are hosting a party.”

“Yes, Sherlock. I did believe that was rather obvious.”

“Why?”

“Because… be- have you heard of this little thing called being social, Sherlock? Getting together with people that you enjoy being around and chatting or catching up?”

Sherlock grunted disagreeably in response from across their shared desk, turning back to his laptop. His brows furrowed as he seemed to realize something and his hands froze over the keyboard as he turned his gaze back on John.

“Wait.”

John sighed. “Yes, Sherlock?”

“Where did you say this was going to be happening?”

“Again, something I thought was obvious. Here, Sherlock. Where else would I do it?”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“Am I invited?”

“Sherlock- “

“Never mind, let me rephrase that. Can I be somewhere else while this gathering is taking place?”

“What? No, Sherlock! Why on earth would you not be here for the party?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Sherlock!”

The corners of Sherlock’s mouth turned slightly down at this and his frown deepened.

“So it is necessary for me to be there?”

“ _Yes_ , Sherlock.”

“Who else is coming?”

“Mrs. Hudson, obviously, Molly, Greg, Mycroft, Shalto- “

“Commander Shalto is coming.”

“I do believe that is what I said, yes.”

Sherlock stood up abruptly and his chair made an awful screeching noise as it was shoved across the floor. John cringed and rubbed his temples in a useless attempt to prevent the headache that was sure to follow. He turned towards Sherlock who was tying up his scarf rather jerkily.

“Sherlock, where are you- “

“Out!”

The door slammed shut and John sighed. What could he possibly be doing now?

~~

John glanced over at Sherlock as a confident knock sounded on the door to 221B Baker Street. He was headed straight for the restroom, his shoulders tense. 

“I’ll be back momentarily.” John addressed the group he had been previously talking to, which consisted of Molly, Mycroft, Greg, and Mrs. Hudson, who was passing out a batch of gingerbread cookies. John shook off the feeling that something was wrong and went to answer the door.

“Watson.” A commanding voice sounded from the steps, and John instantly stood at attention, saluting his former commander. 

“Commander Shalto. It is a pleasure to see you here tonight.” John led his former commander into the main room.

“I won’t be staying long.”

John’s attentive demeanor relaxed slightly as his former commander followed him just into the flat.

“That’s alright. It is enough for you even to be here for this small amount of time.” John smiled easily, until he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Commander.” A deep voice sounded behind John and he tensed up once again. This was not going to be pleasant. 

John turned back to see Sherlock behind him, his eyes gleaming with mischief. John’s eyes betrayed him by tracing Sherlock’s form in this tightly-fitted suit, but then locked onto something on his lapel. A small clump of delicate, green leaves was bunched together with a thin red ribbon. John narrowed his eyes at Sherlock as if to ask what the _hell_ he was doing with mistletoe on him, but he received no response from his boyfriend.

“I do not believe you have been informed of our status. John is now my boyfriend.”

John’s cheek’s were flaming bright red as he avoided eye contact with his previous commander.

Shalto cleared his throat awkwardly. “Congratulations.”

John’s head instantly snapped up, an apologetic look on his face.

“Commander, I do believe it would be best for you to- “

“John,” Sherlock interrupted his embarrassed partner. “I have been informed that if two people are caught under or near mistletoe, it is the tradition for them to share a kiss.”

That little shit-eating _bastard_.

His commander gracefully ignored Sherlock and began to make his leave.

“Thank you for being here, commander. Hopefully we will- “

Sherlock snaked his arm around John’s waist firmly, and placed his lips right next to John’s ear.

“ -catch up again sometime.” _When my boyfriend isn’t trying to seduce me in front of you._

“Oh, how wonderful revenge is,” Sherlock muttered in his ear, before turning John to face him and placing his lips on John’s.

John made a muffled noise of protest and surprise and Sherlock tightened his hold on him even more, tilting his head back with his other hand to deepen the kiss. He heard Mrs. Hudson and Molly gasp, and scurrying footsteps departing from the room; probably also Mrs. Hudson. Mycroft seemed to offer no reaction, while Greg snickered behind his hand.

John’s wide eyes darted around the room, landing on Commander Shalto who was standing tensely in front of the door. He flicked his attention to Greg as he heard a phone camera click.

_Bollocks!_

He forcefully tried to pull away from Sherlock, but his strong arm kept John plastered to him. Sherlock bit at John’s lip and very faintly growled under his breath. He finally pulled away, leaving a lingering kiss at the corner of John’s mouth for good measure.

John composed himself best he could and turned to Commander Shalto. His voice seemed to refuse to work, and Shalto nodded his head sharply as he turned to leave. The door closed forcefully behind him and John buried his head in his hands, still in Sherlock’s embrace.

Greg’s snickers became chuckles and he grinned deviously at his phone screen. 

“You are never going to live that down.”


End file.
